The Trail Rules

by Melanie Hooyenga

  Her hand slides down his arm as his moves to her bare back, and it’s like a magnet draws them closer. They stare into each other’s eyes, and he must say something telepathically because she blushes and looks away.

  Tom clears his throat. “Okay, you two. I need pictures before you leave.”

  They step apart and pose in front of the fireplace, but they can’t keep their hands off each other.

  I move closer to Tom. “You might have your work cut out for you tonight.”

  He shakes his head. “Please don’t remind me that she’s growing up.”

  I laugh, and a twinge of jealousy grips me as Blake smooths a strand of hair off Cally’s face. They smile for the camera, changing poses every couple shots, until Cally throws up her hands.

  “Enough!” She disentangles herself from Blake and pulls me into a hug. Blake’s cologne lingers on her skin. “I wish you were coming. It won’t be the same without you.”

  I hug her back. “I know.”

  She pulls back to look me in the eyes. “I mean it. You’re always there for me and I hate that we can’t do this together.”

  I give her another squeeze, then step back. “Please don’t worry about me. I’ve got a hot date with Zac Efron and enough popcorn to drown my sorrows.”

  Cally bats her eyes at Blake and he shakes his head. “No, we’re not skipping the dance.” We laugh once more, then I shoo them out the door. Tom points his finger at Cally and she nods—it’s his way to tell her to behave. I wait until I hear Blake’s Jeep back out of the driveway, then say goodnight to Tom and head home.

  *****

  Mom and Dad are out on a date. I’m home alone during the first dance of the year, and they’re on a date. I can’t really blame them. I mean, I didn’t tell them about me and Evan until last night when Mom asked to see my dress, and it’s not like I’d want them sitting home with me, but still, way to rub it in. They both hugged me and said they’re here for me if I need to talk, then Mom mumbled something about maybe it being for the best and I went to my room.

  Now they’re gone and I’m in the living room, surrounded by popcorn and soda. I’m halfway through my first Zac movie when a flurry of texts from Cally roll in.

  What the hell was I thinking doing this without you?

  These girls take Homecoming seriously.

  My feet hurt.

  I wish I could say Zac’s high-def abs are enough to distract me from what I’m missing, but they aren’t.

  Who are you hanging out with? Does Blake dance?

  Mostly Ian and Luke. Yes… swoon…

  High school boys either like to dance or they don’t. There’s no in between. And the ones who like to dance don’t necessarily have moves that’ll land them a costarring role with my buddy Zac. So if you find a guy who both likes to dance and doesn’t look like a drunk sea lion, it’s like winning the dating lottery.

  I want to ask about Brianna, but I don’t need to.

  You were right about the curls.

  Everywhere?

  It’s like a Disney princess audition.

  No flappers?

  Correction. Disney princess flapper.

  lol

  Court thing is in 30.

  Good luck!

  Not happening.

  xoxo

  She stops texting after that so I try to focus on the movie.

  That lasts about five minutes. I hate feeling like I’m missing out on some big part of my high school experience. There will be more dances. Two proms, two winter semi-formals, and another Homecoming. I’ve got plenty of time. And I did the right thing. If I stayed with Evan until today we’d be having a miserable time and at the end of the night we’d break up in his car and it’d be so awful he would forever tell the story of the girlfriend who dumped him at the Homecoming dance. At least this way we’re both home, pathetic and alone, but without an audience.

  But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what’s happening. I turn to social media and scroll through my classmates’ feeds.

  A buffet of candy-colored dresses fill my screen. Pink and purple and aqua, all so sweet they give me flashbacks to my Snow Bunny days. Brianna insisted we wear coordinated outfits that were so bright you could see us from a mile away—which I suppose was the point—and looking at these dresses, I don’t think I’ll ever feel the urge to confectionize myself again.

  I flick through the pictures, double tapping a few, until Brianna’s smiling face flies by. I scroll back up and zoom in. Her dress is darker than her trademark pink, with skinny straps, a fitted body, and a knee-length fringed hemline. I sigh. I guess she gets points for being flapperish. Kenzie’s off to her side in a similar dress, but in silver. She went a step farther than Bri and added a headband like Cally’s, plus a feather that sticks another six inches above her head. They’re talking to a couple seniors but it’s hard to tell anything else from one photo.

  Seeing Brianna deflates me and I toss my phone on the couch, but Cally texts a couple minutes later.

  They’re about to announce the winners.

  Good luck!!

  Nope.

  I go back to my app and keep scrolling. Cally and Blake with their arms around each other, oblivious to the rest of the world. Jasminda and Emilia sipping punch, Jasminda’s hair extra bright with a fresh purple streak that matches her dress. Austin and his new girlfriend, Mia—a forward on the soccer team—dancing so close they’ll need a crowbar to pull them apart.

  There’s a couple pictures of them and her short brown hair looks so cool that for a split second I consider chopping mine off. Then my fingers reflexively move to twirl a strand, reminding me that I could never do that. But Mia rocks a pixie like nobody’s business, and based on the next picture of Austin kissing her neck, he doesn’t seem to miss Bri’s long hair.

  I flick my finger on the screen, sending them up my feed. Social media is meant to share what you’re doing with everyone else—including the losers who stayed home—but watching people make out feels voyeuristic.

  I scroll back to the top and hit refresh, and the Homecoming Court is onstage. Cally’s standing on the end opposite Brianna, with Jas and the other two girls in between. Jas and Cally both look uncomfortable. Neither are smiling and they’re looking offstage like they’d rather be anywhere but in front of half the school. Brianna’s smiling like this is the moment she’s been waiting for, her expression so smug I wish I could reach through my phone and wipe it off her face.

  I hit refresh again, but it’s just more kids dancing.

  “Come on, I need to know who won,” I whisper to no one.

  I keep refreshing but it’s like everyone at the dance decided to put their phones away at the exact same moment.

  Finally, I get a text, but it’s from Blake.

  No queen for the B!

  My mouth drops. She actually lost? As much as I hoped she’d be knocked down a peg, I always assumed she’d win. But wait! Did Cally win??

  No. Jasminda.

  Oh wow! I’ve never been so proud of my classmates.

  Cal seems pretty happy too.

  And no pig’s blood?

  lol not yet.

  Thanks for the update.

  Wow. No crown for Bri. And Jas. From what little I know of her, this isn’t the type of thing that will change her, but I can’t believe she won. I feel a tiny bit guilty for being happy about Brianna’s loss, but she’s made me so miserable, I figure I owe it to her.

  I text Cally. You okay?

  It takes a couple minutes for her to reply. SO relieved.

  So Jas??

  Yes! It was amazing! I think Bri’s jaw is still on the floor.

  I fill her screen with the party hat emoji.

  I do have another issue.

  Tell me.

  My dad keeps circling me and Blake.

  LOL. I saw a pic that says otherwise.

  What?! Where?!

  Online. It’s the poor man’s way to enjoy a dance.

  I’ve barel
y kissed him. But that’s not all.

  Oh noes.

  Dad keeps chatting with Miss Simpson.

  Ohhhhhhhh?

  Like, a lot.

  Interesting.

  You mean gross.

  That would be super weird.

  Please don’t remind me.

  Zac rips his shirt off onscreen and I hit pause so I can stare shamelessly. Go enjoy the dance. Let’s catch up tomorrow.

  xoxo.

  My gut twists. I finally make a decision for myself and it’s the wrong one.

  I should have gone to the dance. If the situation was reversed, Cally wouldn’t think twice about going to support me, but I’m the one who broke up with my boyfriend and I’m hiding at home, being the worst friend ever.

  I scroll through my feed a couple more times, but it just makes me sad. You wanted this, I remind myself.

  Chapter 19

  Monday morning I feel oddly relieved. Now that the dance is over, I just have to get on with the rest of my life. Yesterday Mom made another comment about how now I have more time to concentrate on my studies, but being single hasn’t changed my disinterest in school—if anything it’s made it even more unbearable.

  Of course, it is the first school day since the dance, so the halls are buzzing with drama about who kissed who and who came with one person but went home with another.

  “Awesome about Jas,” I say to Hannah in homeroom.

  She laughs. “She was floored. Before the announcement she tried to bet us people would tell her to get off the stage.” She spins her pen on the table. “I’m sure you’ve heard, but your former BFF stormed off the stage and disappeared.”

  I’d heard Brianna escaped the spotlight before they even crowned Jasminda, but not that she’d left the dance completely. “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that drama anymore.”

  She looks up. “You doing okay? With the breakup and all?”

  I nod. “Watching the dance through social media sucked, but Zac kept me company.”

  She lets out a low groan. “That man…

  “Mmm-hmmm. Hey, are we still on for tomorrow?”

  “Just name the place.”

  We settle on a trail and make plans to meet half an hour after school. That should give me enough time to get home before Mom and Dad. They haven’t said much about the no-weekday-activities rule, but that’s probably because I keep getting home before they do.

  When I get to History, Brianna’s already there. Alone. On the surface she looks the same, but when you’ve spent as much time as I have scrutinizing every detail about her, you can tell when something’s off. Her hair looks unwashed and her face is puffy, like she hasn’t slept—both strict no-no’s in her book. She likes to party, but she also likes to look good and takes her beauty rest seriously.

  She looks up from her phone, but it’s like she doesn’t see me.

  I take my seat as other kids file in. Moments before the bell rings, Kenzie strolls in on a cloud of perfume and attitude and I can’t help it, I whip around to look at Bri. Since school started, they’ve never arrived separately.

  Kenzie’s always been a bitch, but she was more like bitch-in-training, mirroring Bri’s expressions and doing her dirty work when Bri couldn’t be bothered. But today it’s like something has shifted. It’s subtle, but Brianna shrinks inside herself when Kenzie sits next to her.

  And Kenzie doesn’t acknowledge Brianna at all.

  By the end of class, my head is spinning. It’s like that one non-look from Kenzie sucked me back into my old life and I NEED TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON. I could do the simple thing and just ask Brianna in Ethics, but that’d be too easy, too obvious.

  And I don’t want her to think I care.

  She slumps into class behind me, her lack of perfume noticeable. Then Jas enters and it’s like the earth stops spinning. They lock eyes for a split second before Brianna’s face turns red and it’s like she’s doing everything she can to stay in control.

  “Figures people voted for the dyke,” Brianna says. “Gotta be trendy.”

  Jas lifts her chin a little higher. “You mean think for themselves and reject the status quo?”

  Brianna flattens her hands on her desk. “Since when is traditional beauty unpopular?”

  “Short hair doesn’t equal lesbian,” I say, giving her my best Snow Bunny glare. “Just ask your boyfriend.”

  Jas walks to her desk as Brianna’s mouth opens ever so slightly. I’m honestly not sure if Jas is gay or straight, but it shouldn’t matter either way. I feel the tiniest twinge of guilt for throwing Mia in Bri’s face, but she deserves it for attacking Jas.

  “Congratulations,” I say to Jas.

  She blushes despite her nonchalant attitude, and her gaze flicks past me in Brianna’s direction. If she’s bothered by what Brianna said, she doesn’t show it. “Thanks. I have to say, I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Well, you looked gorgeous. I loved the purple.”

  She touches her hair, then tilts her head. “I didn’t see you there.”

  Now it’s my turn to blush. “I wasn’t. Stalking online.”

  “Ahh. Been there before.” She leans closer. “I don’t mean to pry, but I thought you were all hot and heavy with your boyfriend?”

  My thumb brushes my Courage bracelet. “Not anymore.”

  Her mouth turns into a frown. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, it’s all good.” I stop myself before saying that I broke up with him. Just because I don’t love Evan anymore doesn’t mean he isn’t wonderful, and I don’t want to say anything that could be twisted into something cruel. Especially with the biggest gossip in school sitting less than two feet away.

  Miss Simpson takes her position at the front of the room, ending our conversation, and I can’t help but check out Brianna in my peripheral vision. It’s not uncommon for her to groom herself during class—running her fingers through her hair, putting on lotion or lip gloss, adjusting her clothes so they lie perfectly and don’t give the illusion that there’s fat on her body where there isn’t—but she hasn’t moved. Her shirt bunches at her waist and her hair is pulled into a ponytail that’s beyond purposefully messy. It’s almost like she got dressed without looking in the mirror.

  Something is definitely wrong.

  Questions dance through my head, the words on my lips, but I swallow them. She may be acting like a normal human being now, but she’s burned me too many times for me to hop down her sadistic bunny trail again. Whatever’s going on with her is not my business. Not anymore.

  A couple times I catch her watching me, and when our eyes meet she opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but I look away. When class ends she stands, her movements still graceful despite her appearance. I take my time getting up to give her a head start, but she doesn’t move. I look up and she’s watching me.

  A frown plays on her lips. “Do you—”

  I stand and take a step toward the door, but she touches my desk.

  “Mike, wait.”

  “Good luck with that,” Jasminda whispers as she walks by.

  I give Brianna my most uninterested look.

  “Are you busy later?”

  “I have plans.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “Busy.”

  Her gaze drops. She licks her lips and takes a deep breath. “I guess I deserve that.”

  This is a side of her I’ve never seen and I feel a stab of guilt for being rude. No matter how much she deserves it. “I really do have plans.”

  Her frown softens. “Later this week?”

  I shake my head and look away before I see the scowl on her face. Nothing about Brianna is spontaneous—every move is calculated to get what she wants. So what does she want from me?

  She’s still waiting at my desk so I nod at the door. We move side by side, falling in step like we had for so many years. But when we get into the hall, I stop. “I’m not ready to do this again,” I say, motioning be
tween us.

  “I get that.”

  “Just so we’re clear.” I leave her standing there and don’t look back.

  Treich sticks to writing on the board today so there’s no need to talk to Evan. We say hi and goodbye, and he picks up my pen when it rolls off the table, but other than that, it’s like we were never friends.

  And I hate it.

  I knew breaking up with him would mean no more kissing or cuddles or make-out sessions in his basement, but I didn’t realize how much I looked forward to telling him the little things about my day. My sour mood follows me to lunch, but the girls are so wrapped up in Homecoming talk that they don’t notice.

  “That’s pretty awesome Jas won,” I say, and they all pause.

  “Do you really think that?” Willow asks. The hair on my neck prickles, expecting a confrontation, but she smiles. “We were worried you’d be upset since Cally lost.”

  I exhale. “Cally never wanted to win. We didn’t care who won as long as it wasn’t Bri—” I stop. Emilia and Willow’s mouths part and Hannah’s eyebrows climb halfway up her forehead. “Wait. I didn’t mean that the way it sounds. I’m glad Jasminda won. Especially because it means this school isn’t buying into the stereotypical bullshit that the blond, blue-eyed girl should always win.”

  “You realize you’re describing yourself, right?” Hannah asks.

  I nod, and Hannah smiles.

  Willow laughs. “We were saying the same thing before you got here.” She bites her lip. “No offence.”

  I hold up my bottle of water. “To not being hung up on appearances.” They raise their drinks and we tap them together, but my mind flits back to Brianna and her sudden lack of interest in how she looks. I hate to admit how curious I am to know what’s going on.

  The girls pick up their conversation about who wore what at the dance, so I dig my phone out of my bag to check for messages. There’s a couple from Cally, one from my sister, and one from an unknown number. I read Cally’s first.